Writing Wrongs

November 21, 2005

So Kyra gave me her cold, and I understand now why she spent Saturday lounging on the couch like the Queen of Sheba. Although I�m pretty sure the Queen of Sheba never watched Thumbelina 324 times and then took a nap.

I have that vague, achy feeling you get with a cold. I don�t feel great, but I know I could feel a whole lot worse. I swallowed down an illegal amount of vitamin C this morning in hopes of keeping a full-fledged cold at bay. Cuz there�s nothing like a cold for Thanksgiving.

Even though I had a word count jump this week (thank you, previously written scene, the �schwimmbad� scene for those in the know), I froze once the word count reached 60,000. For some reason, that seems like so much more than 50,000. I thought for sure I�d have to up the word count total, maybe even to 125,000. I mean, I still have road-trip fallout, Desert Storm, two weddings, Somalia, and a homecoming to cover.

Of course, that started the trip down the you can�t write a book that long, no one will want it, are you crazy? road. I am now back on the road less traveled. I need to be expansive in the first draft. It�s easier to cut than it is to add. Been there, done both, and really, it�s true.

So now, Kit and Steve are standing outside Notre Dame. It was decided it was best for Mark and Vic not to enter, lest they tempt a lightning strike. Let�s see for the midpoint of the story, I have road trips, alcohol, clubbing (the dance kind), naked bodies, religion, and escargot.

Yep, everything�s on track.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 3:55 p.m.

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